Can an 'also' like Miguel del Valle win the Chicago mayor's race?

When Chicago mayoral candidate and City Clerk Miguel del Valle reads or hears his name in the news, he knows he'll be characterized this way:

As an "also."

As in, "also running for mayor is …"

Del Valle, 59, has spent decades in politics, first in the liberal independent Latino wing of the Democratic Party. He started as an organizer against the machine and then held a job as a state senator for 20 years.

In 2006, del Valle was tapped by Mayor Richard Daley and gambled his independent credentials to become Daley's clerk.

Yet after all these years, he's an "also" again.

"Yeah," del Valle told me the other day over breakfast at Mary's Cafe near Tribune Tower. "I've been an 'also' all my life. And that's OK."

He was also an also in 1986, given little chance when he took on Democratic machine candidate Ed Nedza for state senator and won.

"I was written off. I got no coverage from anybody. And it was just assumed that it couldn't be done," del Valle said. "So I tell people, 'Hey, this feels like 1986.'"

To listen to the political experts, no one stands a chance against Rahm Emanuel. But del Valle is offering a unique vision for Chicago: It's a future without a mayoral dictator.

Del Valle has this odd notion that the Chicago City Council — for decades a mere rubber stamp for the Daleys — should have a say in how the city is run.

This threatening idea is called "democracy," and it's glossed over by the status quo cheerleaders seeking a smooth transition from King Shortshanks to the reign of Rahmulus.

The benefits of bossism are obvious. The 50-member City Council rolls over when the boss snaps his fingers, and business and labor leaders know that it's the hand on the 5th Floor that dispenses the sweetmeats and other delicious treats.

An efficient system? Yes, at least politically. But bossism also allowed the city to rot financially. And Chicago taxpayers have been hit with ridiculous and costly deals like that parking meter fiasco.

But, hey, the flowers are nice, and tourists just love that Bean at Millennium Park.

"As mayor, I would want a strong council," del Valle said. "I would want them to share in the pain and the responsibility of dealing with the tough issues.

"It's not, 'Let's see what the mayor's going to propose.' My approach is, I've got ideas on the table, I want you to put your ideas on the table, and let's put them through committee and hash them out. Let's come to a compromise."

Compromise? At City Hall?

Del Valle insists that he doesn't want his behind royally smooched like some monarch or, say, El Rey del Valle. But to have a chance to prove it, he must get into the runoff.

If no candidate gets a majority on Feb. 22, there will be a runoff on April 5. That would allow for new coalitions and much horse-trading. But can del Valle get there?

I don't think so. But he does.

"I don't see anyone getting 50 percent plus one in the first round," he said. "The question is, out of five or six serious candidates, what does it take to come in first or second?"

While del Valle is used to being called an "also," he also wants to be called an "independent." And that's the problem.

A few years ago, Daley needed a clerk to fill in for the soon-to-be-imprisoned James Laski. The mayor picked del Valle. So I had to ask a rude question of a man I respect:

How do you continue the independent Latino theme after serving Daley as his clerk?

"I don't work for Daley as the clerk. I work for the city of Chicago as the clerk," del Valle said. "John, in the four years I've been there, not once has the mayor talked to me about the clerk's office. Not once. So I've run the office as an independent the way I wanted it."

Hasn't Daley's blessing hurt the perception of you as an independent?

"In the eyes of some people, it may have," he said. "So I was silenced for years. I knew I was going to pay that price. People now say, 'You haven't spoken out on this. You used to speak out all the time.' But during that time I continued my work."

Del Valle isn't a rich man. Unlike other Chicago politicians, he didn't make piles of cash as a tax reduction lawyer or lobbyist or zoning impresario. His family lived on one paycheck, the $80,000-a-year state senator salary, and then that bump to $133,000 as city clerk.

"I've put two kids through college on a legislator's salary. One paycheck," he said. "So now I'm up to here in college loans. And now I've put a third one through college. So after 20 years, I needed to boost my salary to pay for these college loans."

Though he's not rolling in campaign cash, he thinks he can get into the runoff for less than a million dollars.

"People say, 'You have no money, you have no organization, you don't stand a chance,'" del Valle said. "I've been hearing the same thing from some folks now."

But del Valle remembers something they don't. That 24 years ago, an also beat the machine.